


Nothing So Simple

by Corycides



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-30
Updated: 2013-03-30
Packaged: 2017-12-06 22:30:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/740875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corycides/pseuds/Corycides
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'All that time with Bass...did he hurt you?'</p><p>What answer did Miles really expect to that question?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing So Simple

'All that time with Bass...did he hurt you?'

It was such an inane question that it slipped right past all of Rachel's defences. She didn't want to alienate Miles – not until she could undermine his influence on Charlie – but she couldn't help the contempt that slid over her face. Sometimes she hated how her brain worked, the cold, ticking, reptile practicality that never shut up, but if the alternative was Miles' goopy sentimentality... 

What did he expect her to say? 

Yes?

* * *

Rachel sat shivering in the dark, the stone pulling the heat out from her bones. She could feel blood dried on her, the stiff-tackiness cracking on her skin. Most of it wasn't hers. That didn't make it any better. Shackles weighted down her wrists and ankles and her scalp felt hot and infected. Bass hadn't been careful when he'd shorn her hair off, leaving her just a blood-stiffened, blood-dyed stubble. 

Stupid to care about that. Stupid to sit in the dark in a t-shirt and underpants and be _vain_. Yet she still kept touching her scalp, feeling the heat of infection, and trying to imagine just how bad it looked.

Ben would laugh. He'd told her once she was the only fragrant engineer he knew. She'd wriggled her toes against his ankle, his laugh tickling the soft skin under her jaw, and asked how many engineers he'd been this close to?

He had his doctor now, of course, and Rachel had- She bit her lip and closed her eyes, holding back the hot sting of tears. Miles would come. For this he'd stand against Monroe. He'd come for her. Rachel shifted and rested her forehead against the damp stone and tried to work out how long she'd been here. She wasn't sure. Monroe had brought her water twice, something distant and cruel in his eyes as he'd poured his down her throat and watched her choke. A man had looked in through the hatch in the door, the light from his torch making her eyes water.

Soon though, she was sure Miles would be here soon.

Two months down in the dark alone before Bass dragged her back into the light, stupid, betraying tears pouring down her face as he hissed in her ear that she should always remember he could put her back down there.

* * *

 

Or maybe Miles wanted a conscience-salving no?

* * *

 

It was a mistake – logistically, morally, in every conceivable way. Rachel knew it. Even as she swallowed the last sweet drops of a bottle of wine – a viable excuse – and put her hand in Monroe's, she knew it. There was no advantage to her in this. Monroe was a sentimental man in some ways, but not enough to undermine his judgement.

She was odd enough to admire that in him.

His eyes were alcohol bright as he nudged her chin up. 'I suppose this is some ploy of yours Rachel?'

She wished. That she could justify to herself, but this was just...loneliness.

Nothing except she was lonely, so starved of physical contact that even the squeeze of his fingers around the fine bones of her hand made her shiver. If he wanted to believe she was being subtle though, then let him.

'Suppose what you want,' she said, standing on her tiptoes and pressing her lips against his.

It was a dry, polite kiss. Like two lizards, she thought with a flicker of ridiculous humour. It wasn't a terrible comparison. Then his hand clenched on the back of her neck and the kiss turned into something frantic and hungry, like he could taste her secrets on her tongue.

Monroe shoved her back against the table, trapping her between his thighs, and dragged her skirts up. His fingers brushed the scars on her legs, neat, thread lines, and didn't flinch or linger. He was intent enough that Rachel thought she could just lay back and pretend she was thinking of England. This wasn't going to happen again though, she couldn't afford that, and she wanted to stockpile the memories for empty, endless nights.

Besides, she'd always been a little bit curious about Bass hadn't she? With his bad boy charm and string of giggling, 20 year old girlfriends who looked at him like he hung the sun.

That was the trouble of being held captive by someone you'd known so long. It could get confusing when the splitting point wasn't clear.

So she wriggled encouragingly, reaching down to help him wrench his belt loose. He grabbed her hips and lifted her onto the table, her legs wrapping around his hips.

'Rachel,' he said, kissing her throat and down to the pale, faded-freckle curve of her breast. On his tongue her name sounded...like it ached. 'God, Rachel.'

He fucked her like it had been years for him too, fast and intent and eager to touch and taste and mark every bit of her skin. Afterwards his breath shuddered like sobs against her skin and she didn't ask, because she didn't want to know. She did stroke his hair, combing her fingers through the pale curls that kept defying his attempts to tame them.

It was meant to be only the one night, but Monroe seemed to think it was something else. He would come to her bed sometimes, waking her with a kiss like a lover, and maybe she'd pretend too. Even when his lips stung against fresh whip marks or welted blisters. It didn't matter anyhow. Spreading her legs for him didn't mean he'd won.

It didn't mean anything; it didn't change anything.

* * *

 

The one thing Miles wasn't going to get was the complicated truth of Bass telling her 'I loved you' while he made her watch Strausser beat her son. The bile of guilt and shame sour in her throat as she wondered if loving him back would have changed anything.

In the end, she didn't say anything. That said everything didn't it?


End file.
